A little old lady sitting at the front of the bus can do nothing to change civil rights.

Does it hurt very much to die? Well, sweetheart, yes, but it hurts a lot more to keep living.

In a city this size, every year, hundreds of husbands walk away. Kids leave home. Wives escape. People disappear.

A male chauvinist pig isn't born, he's made, and more and more of them are being made by women.

My goal is more to be remembered. They'll remember this thing and like it in the future. The trick is to stay remembered long enough for that to happen.

The first step to eternal life is you have to die.

That's why I write, because life never works except in retrospect. You can't control life, at least you can control your version.